What really hurts us in this trek we call life is that we get numb to it. We start developing routines, which in and of itself isn't bad. But then what happens is that the routines turn into ruts and as I read once, the only difference between a rut and a grave is the depth. We just keep digging until it's official. We're dead. I know a lot of dead people who are still walking around waiting for the coroner's report.
Now when I say this in my presentations a lot of people start going, "Not me. I don't have any ruts." Right. Denial is a wonderful thing. I worked in substance abuse for a long time. I know how powerful denial can be even when the facts are hitting you in the face.
Let me give you what I call my generic ruts. In other words, a lot of you have a variety of schedules and lifestyles and therefore have different ruts. If I try to get to specific you will say that that's not what you do. So here is a generic approach. If these examples don't fit your specific lifestyle just plug in your own. Be honest and look at your own life.
Here we go. Let's pretend it's the middle of the work week. You get up about the same time you did the day before. You probably get out of the same side of the bed. Maybe you go into the bathroom. You take care of business pretty much in the same order you did the day before. When you're done in the bathroom you come out and get dressed pretty much in the same order you got dressed the day before. . . probably in the same spot you got dressed the day before. Then if you have young kids, you get them going pretty much in the same order you did the day before. If you have fights in the morning they're pretty much with the same people, about the same things as you did the day before. Then maybe you go down into the kitchen and have a little coffee or maybe a little oatmeal or eggs. You have it in the same place you did the day before. Then when you're done you put your plates in the sink or the dishwasher and then you go to your car which is parked pretty much in the same place it was parked the day before. Then you drive to work. . . pretty much in the same way you drove the day before. Then when you get to work you park pretty much in the same place you parked the day before. . . unless some jerk took your spot. Then you're a basket case. After parking at work you walk in and say high to the same three and a half people you said high to the day before. And if you're really good at this you don't really wake up for about three hours. Oh, you're working. But you're not really awake.
I said this once to a group and a guy said, "Hey, I have been awake at that time of day. It's not that great." It was almost like he thought I was trying to sell him morning and he wasn't buying. My point is that when big chunks of your day disappears, your life disappears. How many times have you heard someone say, "I can't believe I'm (put in the number) forty." "Where has the time gone?" I'm saying that you missed it. Just remember time really flies when you're in a coma. And that's what a lot of us are in - a coma. A conscious coma but a coma nevertheless.
I'm not saying that if you drive to work tomorrow in a new way that you'll be happy forever. You'll probably get lost. But at least you'll be in a new neighborhood. And maybe we need to get lost once in a while just to remind ourselves that we know how to find our way home again.
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